I Like Soup
by Fuji Fox
Summary: This is a collection of drabblesficlets based on different themes that I choose. Contents may vary.
1. My Eyes Hurt

**Authors Note**:

I Like Soup is a collection of the OffBeat drabbles/ficlets I will do. Each one of these will be from a theme word/phrase/something or other that I see/read/hear/actively search for. There will be a range from boy/boy to girl/girl to girl/guy to gen. Or whatever else I think of. The rating will go up once there are more.

Warnings: None.

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**My Eyes Hurt**

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The computer's screen illuminated the room, casting a pale glow on nearby objects. Beverage containers littered the small table where a boy was clicking away at the computer, pausing every few seconds to writes something down in a notebook on the table. It was late into the night and the boy should have been asleep hours ago, curled up in the warm recesses of his bed. Not working on the computer with the lights out so his eyesight would fail him later in life.

Outside the room there was hardly a sound, the other occupants asleep like any normal being at that hour of night. Occasionally there was a creak or two from the duplex itself as the walls shifted, unnoticed by the naked eye. The wind was blowing outdoors, beating against the windows and rocking objects back and forth on the ground. Litter scattered across the street and flew up into the air. Down the street a siren went off and a dog started to bark, but no one in that duplex noticed. The boy only clicked away at the keys.

There was sweat across his brow from concentration and no air. Their cooling system went out last week and the repairman was being slow as ever to make a visit. It was probably something simple, too, that had went wrong. A wire fell loose, or something needed to be replaced from years of use. It would probably cost more than it was worth, but no one had time to argue. Life was always busy.

Fatigue was no concern to the boy. Other things were more important than the sleep his body had been craving for hours now. There was a soft sound from the boy's lips as he made a connection and quickly scribbled away on the notebook, his eyes straining in the dim light.

A hand reached out and took hold of a can, shaking it to hear that there was nothing left. Eyes glanced to the clock on the corner of the desk. While a sigh left parted lips, Colin stood up from his seat and went to grab another drink from the refrigerator. He had to use the bathroom; his bladder reminded him on the way out with a painful tinge. With the way things seemed to be going with his summer studies, Colin felt he might never see the end of this night. What a bother.


	2. I Feel Flushed

**Authors Note**:

I Like Soup is a collection of the OffBeat drabbles/ficlets I will do. Each one of these will be from a theme word/phrase/something or other that I see/read/hear/actively search for. There will be a range from boy/boy to girl/girl to girl/guy to gen. Or whatever else I think of. The rating will go up once there are more.

Warnings: BL(boylove)

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**I Feel Flushed**

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It was unintentional.

He had only been observing the leaves high in the trees through the window as he turned the corner. They were starting to turn that gorgeous brown and gold color, dashes of red and green here and there. The wind had been blowing at that same moment he turned the corner and he was caught up in the way the leaves were lifted from their branches and flew into the sky like a bird released from a cage for the first time in its life.

It was unintentional.

He had only been observing the same leaves the other boy had been observing through the same window while he turned the same corner. Only he didn't find them to be that gorgeous as the other boy thought. The leaves were drying up, dying for the tree to live through the winter. He felt it was gorgeous for a different reason all together. And the wind that had been blowing at that same moment as they both turned the same corner had caught his eye too, but he didn't see the leaves flying like a bird released from a cage.

It was unintentional.

The other students in the hall hadn't been observing the same leaves through the same window as the two boys turned the same corner. They didn't notice anything gorgeous about the changing leaves or the wind pulling the leaves into the sky. There was nothing poetic in their minds; there was only the thought of when their bus was leaving or who was going to give them a ride home or how long it was going to take them on foot. They were the bird being released from the cage, too much in a rush to notice the others.

It was unintentional.

Just like the leaves flying in the air, papers soared up and away. Hands flew out to grab on to something for balance, chests crashed into each other and a noise passed over surprised lips. No one noticed while the halls cleared and the boys lay on the floor, too stunned to move.

It was unintentional.

That's what they would say later when one of them brings it up, because, really, it had to have been an accident that after the halls cleared there were two boys laying on the floor with their lips together and eyes closed, faces flushed.

It was **unintentional**.


End file.
